Making the Grade
by Caterpillar
Summary: Previously Castles in the Sky, but with improvements. Oliver must improve his grades or he gets booted off the Quidditch team. A story of love, homework, and psychotic exgirlfriends.
1. Default Chapter

I do not own Harry Potter or any of that other fun stuff.  
  
Okay, some of you have probably already seen this under a different name. I removed that story, made some changes to the four chapters that were already up, added some more, and changed the title to one that actually had relevance to the story.  
  
"Mr. Wood," Professor McGonagall glared at the offending student over her wire-rim glasses. She placed her hands on her desk and sighed in exasperation. "Mr. Wood, I simply do not know what to do with you. For five years you have done nothing but stare out the window and daydream during your classes. The only thing you take an interest in here at Hogwart's is Quidditch. Tell me, Mr. Wood, what do you plan to do when you graduate?"  
  
Oliver squirmed in his seat. "Uh, play Quidditch," he mumbled. He wanted to disappear into thin air, but he must have been daydreaming when that was covered. He glanced out the window, where there was blue sky, green grass, and freedom. He couldn't understand McGonagall's obsession with academics when there was a chance to play Quidditch. Suddenly he realized that he was staring out the window again, and turned to face the Professor, who was becoming irate.  
  
"Mr. Wood, I will make this short. If you do not improve your marks by the next term, you will be removed from the Quidditch team. Do you understand?"  
  
Oliver Wood jumped in his seat, not expecting such a severe ultimatum. "But...but Professor." he stammered. "You can't do that. I mean, who will be the captain? Who will be the Keeper?"  
  
Professor McGonagall sighed again. "Angelina Johnson will become the captain, and Andrew Graeme from the reserve team will become the new Keeper." She looked him straight in the eye, her voice firm. "I don't want to see that happen, Mr. Wood. You're the best Keeper we've had in years. I know what it's like to live and breathe Quidditch, so I hope you'll find a way to improve this term." She turned around and opened the door for him. He thanked her and left.  
  
Inside his head, he was reeling. He couldn't imagine life without Quidditch, without the early practices, the rainy games, and the thrill of competition. And he certainly couldn't imagine Angelina Johnson as the new captain. Oliver remembered the fight they'd had two weeks ago; the one that started in the Grand Hall and ended when Angelina slammed the door to her dormitory in his face. The kind of fight that everyone didn't hear about, they actually heard. Even though they hadn't formally broken up with each other, he had enough sense to know the relationship was over. If Angelina became the Griffindor captain, he would never live it down.  
  
At the bottom of the stairs he met George and Fred, who had been waiting for him. One of them, Fred maybe, came over and wrapped his arm over Oliver's shoulders. "Jeez, Oliver, you look like McGonagall just ran you through the wringer. Was she mad about you running through the school in a towel?"  
  
"Not that it was your fault, though," George added. "It was pretty mean of Angelina to steal your clothes from the shower." Fred and George sniggered at the memory of Oliver dashing through the halls, leaving a wake of very startled students and teachers behind him. "I mean, who knew that she had a vengeful streak in her?"  
  
Oliver sighed and slumped his shoulders. Angelina's thirst for petty revenge was the least of his worries. "If I don't improve my grades, I get cut from the team," he said. The twins stared at him in shock. Then they both wrapped their arms around him and clucked in sympathy. Muttering apologies, they led him to the Great Hall, where lunch was waiting. 


	2. To boldly go where no man has gone befor...

No matter the time of day, Professor Binn's class was insufferably boring. After lunch, his lectures were sheer torture. Oliver propped his head up on his hand, fighting a losing battle with his eyelids. He held his quill loosely in his left hand, occasionally writing down a date that meant nothing to him. While he was staring out the window he felt a prickly sensation down his spine, as if everyone was watching him, which was absolutely the case. "Well, Mr. Wood?" Professor Binn asked.  
  
Oliver floundered. He searched his brain for an answer, but couldn't ever remember the question. He was about to answer "Merlin's Mystical Shop of Wonders" when he heard a voice behind him. "1739," the girl whispered. "The Battle of Creamshanks was fought in 1739." Oliver nodded, then answered.  
  
"Very good, Mr. Wood, but I think it would behoove you to start spending more time with us here in the classroom than out on the Quidditch pitch." Oliver's ears turned bright red, but he said nothing. For the rest of the class he sat in a miserable silence, bored out of his skull but not daring to look out the window. The seconds turned into minutes, the minutes into hours, the hours into years, and finally the class was over.  
  
Coming out of that classroom was like breathing for the first time. Oliver took in a lungfull of the crisp October air and planned his next move. There was still some sunlight left; he could probably get in a good hour of flying in before it became too dark. He needed to work on a new blocking technique, and could probably get Alicia or Fred and George to help him. Oliver took a step towards the Gryffindor tower to get his broom when he noticed Angelina coming out of a classroom at the far end of the hall. She had her back to him, but he could tell that she was going to turn around any second.  
  
Oliver froze like a squirrel. He wanted to scamper and hide, not feeling brave enough to stand up to one of Angelina's cutting remarks. There was nowhere to go and the hallway was empty; if he turned around and ran she would see him anyway. In desperation he noticed a door on the far side of the hallway. He made a dash for it and ran through the door without looking at where he was going.  
  
The door led to the library. He moved through the rows of books, looking for a hidden corner he could stay in for a while. I probably should have come here in the first place, he thought. It's not like I don't have any studying to do. He headed for a table in the far corner, only to round a bookcase and discover it was occupied.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. The girl looked up, and he recognized her from his History of Magic class. Then he noticed the black thing in front of her. It had two sides like a folder, but was set up in a way so that one side was on the table and the other was propped up, facing the girl. It had a lot of silver things on the side, and a slit about three and a half inches long. The girl lowered the top of the black folder and looked at him expectantly. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean to interrupt." The girl frowned and turned back to the thing on the table.  
  
Oliver found a table and picked up a book about Arithmancy. He skimmed through it, but didn't pay much attention to it. His thoughts kept turning to the black thing, and it was driving him nuts. After thirty minutes he realized that he had only read two pages. Giving in to his curiosity, he put down the book and went back to the girl at the table.  
  
"Excuse me," he said. "What exactly is that thing?"  
  
The girl looked up again, startled. Then she smiled. "It's called a laptop," she said, obviously excited about her gadget. "It's a miniature computer." Oliver stared at her, completely lost. "I'm doing research for Advanced Muggle Studies," she explained. "Muggles use computers to help them do stuff, like write, talk to each other, or play cards." She turned the laptop around and Oliver could see a small set of Muggle playing cards on it. He reached out a finger to touch them, but only felt a flat screen. "They aren't real," she said. She moved her finger around a black square, and a white arrow moved on the screen. The cards moved when she clicked on them, and with a final click they all started to fly up towards the top of the screen. Oliver jumped back, then leaned closer for a better look.  
  
"Wow," he said. This laptop thing was better than the Weasley twin's inventions. He moved his finger on the square and watched as the arrow swirled around the screen. He examined it closely, trying to figure out how it could be used for writing if there was no quill or scroll. Muggles, he thought. They always overlook the obvious. He heard the girl say something, but he was too distracted to make it out. "Huh?"  
  
"I'm Morian Grey," she repeated. She hand was held out, and he shook it. Oliver looked at her again, and noticed her as a person for the first time instead of a piece of furniture or a body in the background. She had a forgettable face framed by thick glasses and brown hair, with pale eyes that matched her last name. Oliver smiled at her out of politeness, then turned back to the laptop. He was trying to figure out how to make the cards work when he noticed Magic and the History of Wizards stuck between Basic Potions, Level 5 and Arithmancy for the Modern Wizard in the pile of books on the table. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Oliver knew how to improve his grades and get to play with the laptop some more at the same time.  
  
"I was wondering," he said, "if you could help me with my homework sometime? I've been having such a problem lately, and Professor McGonagall's been getting on me to improve this term. I could really use the help of a tutor. Could you help me? I can pay you."  
  
Morian narrowed her eyes. "You make is sound so indecent. Tell me, is it really that bad to have to hit the books after goofing off on your brooms for so long? You sports types are all the same. You come running to the smart people when you find out there's more to life than Quidditch." She packed up her books and got up from the table. Without a second glance, she stalked out of the library.  
  
Now what did I do? Oliver thought. 


	3. It's hard to watch where you're going if...

Oliver stayed in the library long enough to check out the Arithmancy book and a new book on Quidditch techniques. He walked out of the library and stood in the hall, thinking. He desperately needed a tutor, but that girl had turned him down. He thought about asking Percy, but he was spending more time with some Ravenclaw and didn't want to be bothered. Speaking of Ravenclaws.  
  
He turned as Amanda Rieman walked by. Oliver had had a crush on her since he was paired up with her in Divination last year. At the time, he was dating Angelina, but now that he was a single man he could try to woo the blond goddess before him. The only problem was that Oliver seemed to lose the use of his limbs and tongue whenever she was around. Deep breaths, he thought. You can talk to her without making a fool of yourself. Knees knocking, he called after her.  
  
"Hey, Amanda!" His voice cracked. Dammit, he thought. Amanda turned around and smiled at him. Oliver thought he was going to melt. Be smooth, he reminded himself. He walked over to her, swaggering without realizing it. "It's nice to see you, Amanda, I haven't had a chance to talk to you since last year." He gave her what he hoped was a charming smile.  
  
"Yeah," she said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "It's great to see you again! How was your summer?" They talked for a while before Amanda excused herself. "I'm really sorry, Oliver," she said, motioning towards the Ravenclaw common room. "I promised that I would help a friend with her Herbology homework." She widened her smile. "But if you'd like to walk with me."  
  
"Oh, no problem. I was heading that way anyway," he lied. They walked together side by side. Oliver was amazed at how his day had completely turned around. Nothing could screw this up, he thought, just as his foot hit a raised stone.  
  
Oliver and his books went flying. Lying on the floor, be could hear Amanda giggling. As he reached for the Quidditch book Amanda stuck out her foot and nudged the book just out of his grasp. He crawled across the floor and tired to pick it up when she kicked it away again. Beginning to get annoyed, Oliver dived for the book and managed to grab it before Amanda could reach it. "Oh, you're no fun," she said. Oliver got back up and tried to resurrect his wounded dignity.  
  
They walked together until they came to a large tapestry. "Fiddlesticks," she said, and the tapestry pulled to one side. Instead of going inside, however, she turned around and stopped in the tapestry's shadow. "It was really nice talking to you again, Oliver. Maybe you and I should do something together." She stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. Before he could do anything she was gone. He stood there like a dead man for two minutes before he remembered that breathing was an essential part of life and that he should try it some time. Dropping the corner he turned toward Gryffendor tower with a new spring in his step. 


End file.
